Blind Date
by WildHeart22
Summary: Jace's life is a privileged one. With plenty of money, he's never wanted for anything. But money can't help how lonely he feels, with no one he can trust. When he finally finds someone that makes him think life can be about more than money, he finds it won't be all that easy to win her over. How could a boy who has used his looks to get by for his whole life win over a blind girl?
1. Chapter 1

I've never understood when people said that money couldn't buy happiness. Honestly, I am pretty damn rich-and pretty damn happy. The two tend to go hand-in-hand. If you have money, you have whatever you want. Getting whatever you want-yeah it tends to make you happy. So wouldn't that mean money _does_ buy happiness?

I mean, really. People are a lot happier when they're not starving to death, right? And what do you have to do to get food? Pay for it. With _money_. So, there you have it. Money buys happiness.

Whenever I made my opinion about money and happiness known, my grandmother would just shake her head and sigh. She would mutter "You'll understand someday" and she would go back to whatever else she was doing-usually paperwork for whatever case she was working on.

My grandmother liked to point out that I was still just a boy, despite the fact that I was out of school and turning twenty in two weeks. She also liked to call me insolent, and ignorant, among other things.

Grandmother has a...unique way of showing her love.

Take now, for example, as she told me that I should make myself scarce while her clients are over for dinner. Not that I minded. I don't care much for the stuffy small talk that was the same at each of those dinners. I used to have to go to all of them, until I made a scene when I was seventeen when the clients brought their son, Gabriel, with them. Now, that would have been fine-nice actually, since it would be nice to see someone my age for once-if Gabriel wasn't a stuck-up, spoiled, selfish, bratty little monster. He was a year older than me, and acted like he was ten years older. Needless to say, we hadn't gotten along, and my grandmother decided that it'd be best if she kept me away from the clients more often.

This time, she'd told me that these clients were especially important and requested that I go somewhere, see a friend or something.

I thought about going to see Sebastian. He was my best friend. I'd known him since my senior year in high school-about two years ago. We got along easily, and he's just about the only friend I have, other than Gabriel, who I get along with better now that I got to know him a bit. He's still a stuck-up prick, but a manageable one. I've never been one to have a lot of friends. I was perfectly fine being on my own, although it was nice to hang out with Seb and Gabriel sometimes.

I decided to walk to Seb's house, since it was nice out, although a little cold, and he didn't live too far away.

I watched the city moving around me as I walked. The cars sped by and the people kept their eyes down, hands shoved in their pockets if they weren't carrying a briefcase or bag. I saw a young couple, about my age, maybe older, pass by with their hands clasped together. As they passed, the woman shot me a wink, unbeknownst to her boyfriend. I scoffed silently, shaking my head at the oblivious man's misfortune. Poor guy.

That was why relationships weren't worth it. All they did in the end was disappoint you and make you out to be a fool. There was no advantage to it, except for consistent sex. And was that really worth it? I'd seen too many people get hurt badly because they were foolish enough to trust their heart to someone else. No thank you, I'll keep mine right in my chest where it belongs.

I continued walking, pushing the woman from my mind as I kicked a piece of litter out of my path. I followed it with my eyes to see it slide under a bench that was pushed up against the brick wall of a store front. I looked up to see a girl sitting there, holding a dog's leash tightly in her hand. It was a German Shepherd, probably one of the only dog breed that I could recognize off the top of my head.

The girl was looking at the ground, her red curls falling around her face. I paused when I saw how distraught she looked.

She was a beautiful girl. She seemed a bit younger than me, maybe still a senior in high school. Her hair was bright red and it fell loose halfway down her back. Her eyes were a unique bright green color, and they were downcast as her dog sat loyally by her feet. I frowned, taking a step closer to her and waiting for her to notice me. She didn't, but the dog turned its eyes to me. I could see the intelligence in them, and it kind of scared me. I didn't like the thought that an animal could be smarter than I was.

The animal spun its head around to the girl and nudged her hand, resting on her knee, with its nose. She looked down at it, shifting her hand. "What?" She asked.

The dog looked over at me and barked quietly. It was actually the quietest bark I'd ever heard out of a dog that size. The girl frowned, looking confused. "What, May?"

It barked again, still looking at me. The girl ran a hand through her hair, her fingers still tight on the leash. I could see how frustrated she appeared with the dog. "I think she's trying to tell you that there's someone here," I said slowly, unsure why I hadn't just walked away from the girl. Why did I care if she was upset? It was none of my business.

The girl jumped, her head spinning to look at me. I swear to god that the dog looked smug. Her eyes were wide, but they weren't exactly on my face as I'd expected. But they weren't looking over my body either, like the woman I'd just passed with her boyfriend. It was like she was looking over my shoulder, like there was someone there. I turned briefly just to make sure there wasn't.

"Who are you?" she asked sharply.

"I'm Jace. You seemed upset. I was going to make sure you were alright. Then your dog kind of went loco." She frowned a bit, her fingers tightening on the leash.

"Clary," she introduced herself simply. "Don't be mean to May. She was just trying to let me know you were there, since apparently you weren't going to." I raised a brow at her clipped tone.

"I did, though," I defended, watching the way her eyes finally met my eyes, like she'd just figured out where they were.

Maybe she had. _Fuck_, I was talking to a blind girl. Her brows furrowed.

"Yeah, after you stood there watching me try and figure out what was going on for thirty minutes." I bit my lip to keep from smiling, just in case I was wrong and she wasn't blind, just odd.

"I'm pretty sure it wasn't thirty minutes." She let out an angry huff.

"Yeah, well I wouldn't know. This stupid watch is driving me nuts." She turned her head back down towards her wrist, and now I could see a slim watch on her wrist. Its face was large, and it had a few circular buttons on it. She pressed one, but all it managed to do was make the screen light up. She waited a moment, then cursed under her breath and tried another button. This one made the numbers flash so that she could change the time.

I frowned as she cursed again, dropping her head onto the back of the chair. "What are you trying to do?"

"It's supposed to talk," she said with a sigh. "So that I can know what time it is. I have a feeling my brother is late, but I don't know whether I'm allowed to call him and yell at him yet, because I can't get this stupid thing to talk!" Definitely blind then, if she needed a talking watch. I don't know why that thought bothered me so much.

"Here, why don't I try to figure it out?" She shook her head, fumbling with the buttons again.

"No, I can figure it out." I frowned as she continued to struggle, biting her lip harshly.

I sat down next to her, reaching out for her wrist gently. She still flinched when my fingertips brushed her skin, but let me take her wrist. I pulled it over to me to see more clearly. I looked at the buttons for a moment before seeing one to the side of the others that was marked with a picture of a speaker. I pressed it, and both of us jumped as a female voice, that sounded a bit like Siri from my phone, announced the time to be one fifty-five PM.

She blinked for a second before turning to me with lips parted in shock. "How did you do that?"

I chuckled. "There's a little button on the side with a speaker over it, I figured that was the one that spoke.

She scoffed. "You've got to be kidding me. They labeled a watch specifically made for blind people with _pictures._" I laughed a bit at her reaction.

"Yeah, it doesn't make that much sense. Here, let me show you the button," I offered, reaching for her other hand. She looked as though she wanted to resist, but let me take her hand.

I took her pointer finger and placed it over the button that made the watch speak, pressing down so that it told her the time was now two o' clock PM.

Her lips curled up at the corners slightly as I released her hands.

"Thanks," she said, looking back down at May, who was looking around the area with an unblinking gaze.

"Your dog is cute," I said, for lack of anything else to say. Usually, if I was talking to a girl as beautiful as this one was, I would be flirting like crazy. But I didn't know how to flirt with someone who couldn't see me. It was all about eyes contact, and smiles and charming looks.

What the hell kind of situation was this?

"I'll take your word for it," she said, her voice a little bitter.

I winced. _Yeah, Jace. Smooth. _

"Sorry. I didn't really think-"

"No, don't apologize because she's being a bitch," someone said from the side.

I jumped, but Clary just crossed her arms over her chest. I was shocked not only at the man's appearance, but also at what he'd said.

He was looking at Clary sharply, but I could detect a certain amount of fondness in his gaze. His eyes were green, and they reminded me of Clary's, although hers were quite a few shades lighter. His hair was so blonde it was almost white, and it fell onto his forehead choppily.

"Shut up, Jon," Clary muttered. Then she looked over at him. "And you're late, by the way."

I raised a brow and Jon shook his head, his scolding look morphing into slight amusement. I remembered Clary say that she wanted to know what time it was so she knew if her brother was late. This must be him.

"Uh-uh. I said I'd be done by two. It was _exactly_ two when I got here. Your watch said so." His eyes were shining with amusement and he looked between us happily. "Who's this?"

Clary rolled her eyes, reminding me yet again that she couldn't use them. It was weird, how she could use her eyes so easily despite the fact that they didn't work for vision.

"This is Jace. He was helping me with my watch." Jon looked at me, a pale eyebrow going up to disappear beneath his hair. I only noticed then the five begs set around his feet.

"She let you help her?" Clary scoffed before I could respond.

"_She_ is right here." Jon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Clary, you're being especially rude today." Clary smiled sarcastically.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Maybe if someone hadn't left me out here to rot while they did all the shopping then I wouldn't be so, I don't know, rotten." I couldn't help a chuckle, and I saw her lips twitch slightly as she fought a smile.

Jon just sighed. "Maybe if you hadn't 'forgotten' to bring May's vest-"

"You know I hate that thing. It's obnoxious. If it was just a normal color with a little patch, that'd be fine," she hissed.

"You're _blind_, what do you care what it looks like?"

I felt a little awkward stuck in the middle of the siblings' feud, but I would have felt rude getting up and leaving. If there's one thing my grandmother taught me, it's that people remember rudeness a lot more than they remember kindness.

"Again, I wouldn't if you'd gotten a normal one. But no, you had to get the one that might as well _light up_ with a sign pointing to me saying 'BLIND GIRL HERE, GO AHEAD AND STARE'. Other people have _told_ me it's obnoxious."

I raised my brows, feeling a bit for her. It reminded me of when I was little, and all the other kids would see me with my grandma and just _know_ that I was the orphan kid. I was the one without a mom _or _dad.

"I think the dog kind of ruins that you'd be able to hide it anyway," Jon said, sounding exhausted. "Clary, please. Just _try_ to be less difficult sometimes?"

Clary rolled her eyes, but didn't say anything else, clearly done fighting.

Jon sighed and turned to me, smiling again. He seemed to be a pretty upbeat person, especially compared to his sister.

"You should come to our house," he said suddenly. I blinked in surprise and Clary snorted quietly, her arms still crossed over her chest. She reminded me of a pouting child.

"I'm sure that's _just_ what he wants to do after already dealing with our bitching."

"_Your_ bitching," Jon corrected simply. "And who said he'd be around you? I want to have a conversation with the guy who managed to get _you_ to accept help." She just scoffed, slumping down a bit on the bench.

Her brother turned to me, smirking slightly. "What do you say? We can all hang out, watch a movie, bug Clary by telling her the wrong things are going on in it."

"Oh, hilarious, Jon." Clary scowled as she stood quickly. She seemed to lose her balance though, and her dog immediately jumped to her feet, bracing herself up against Clary's side.

Jon's hands twitched at his side as though he wanted to jumped forward and support her, but he didn't move. Clary found her balance again as she reached down, scowling when she realized the leash was on the ground. She crouched down by May's side and brushed her fingertips across the floor until she found the leash.

She stood up again, taking more care this time, with the leash in her hand. Jon frowned. "I told you we should get one of those handle things for her so you don't have to search for her leash every time-"

"Jon," she sighed tiredly. "Please. Can we just go home?"

Her brother frowned, but seemed to give in, and nodded. "Sure, Clare." He turned to me. "Do you want to come with us? Clary could use some more human interaction, and she hasn't bit your head off yet so I guess you'd do." Clary sighed again but remained quiet, looking at me expectantly.

Jon looked so hopeful as he waited for my answer that I had to wonder if Clary was usually even more obstinate and, well, for lack of a better word, bitchy. I could understand a brother trying to help his sister, even though she may not want help. I felt for him.

"I'd be happy to go with you." I could only hope I didn't regret this.

**So, this is my new story (clearly). **

**The characters will be kind of out of character, although not too much I think-mostly Clary. Although both Clary and Jace are...well kind of assholes so far. That's okay. That happens. **

**This will be from Jace's point of view, not Clary's. I think you might eventually hear a bit from Jon though. *Wink wink, he's my favorite person ever* **

**And I know it starts off pretty quickly, but there wasn't a whole lot I wanted to reveal about Jace right away. And it's short. The other chapters will be longer for the most part-you know if you read my other story, Twisted, that I like loooong chapters. **

**Hope you guys enjoy :)**

**-Cassidy**


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm soooo happy with all the response I've gotten already :) you guys are amazing. I know it's short again, but I wanted to get something out in response to all the amazing reviews I got. The next one WILL be longer, I promise. I have a special thing planned for it ;)**

I feel bad for even thinking it, but the walk to the siblings' house was actually a bit amusing. Clary and Jonathan bickered the whole way there, although it was mostly Jon snapping at Clary for being crude and Clary snapping back bitterly. I'd also discovered that he was her senior by only one year.

He liked to point out that she should listen to him because he's her elder. She liked to point out that a one year difference had little to no impact on maturity levels, especially when he acted like a six year old half the time anyway.

After about five minutes of walking, Jonathan stopped, tugging slightly on Clary's arm to get her to turn. I watched silently, curious about his guiding motions. He made it look so simple to get a blind girl through the busy New York City streets.

I looked up curiously as we stepped onto a thin cement path. We were walking up to a brownstone building. It was narrowly built, and it looked a bit decrepit, although sturdy. It wa definitely not the type of place I was used to, but it wasn't awful.

Jonathan led Clary along the path, although she seemed to be walking even more confidently now than she had been before. She stopped by the door as he continued for a few more steps to unlock the door. She looked over at me as I stepped up beside her.

"Why are you here?" She asked quietly as her brother fumbled with his keys. I frowned.

"What do you mean?" She looked away, her odd eyes filled with contempt as the corners of her mouth turned down. I couldn't help but think that she could use those lips to do something a lot nicer than frowning.

"Why are you here? Why did you agree to come here? It can't just be to socialize with me, so why are you here?" I huffed quietly as Jonathan finally pushed the door open. She was right, naturally. Who would want to socialize with someone as moody as her?

"You'll just have to live with not knowing that now, won't you?"

I knew she was scowling at me, but I had looked away, nodding to Jonathan as he gestured inside. I passed him and saw him smirk at Clary as she fumed behind me. Apparently, we hadn't been as quiet as we thought we'd been.

I felt a little bad, treating a blind girl like crap, but she had started it. Maybe if she was friendlier, I wouldn't feel the need to defend myself with sarcasm. Shit, who am I kidding? I was rarely friendly unless I wanted to sleep with a girl.

But I did want to sleep with this girl. At least a little. But the fact that she was blind threw a pretty large wrench into my plan. Could I really fool around with someone that was impaired like her? How would it even be fair?

Besides that, I knew her brother now. No way could I screw her after meeting her brother. I couldn't do that knowing she's got an older brother who would kill me if he knew what was going on. Nope. Even I have limits.

As Jonathan shut the door behind us all, I took in the living room appreciatively. It was well decorated in neutral colors and there were paintings and things hung up along the walls, giving it a comfy feel. There were just a few things off about the room. One, was the slim white cane leaning up against the wall, shoved into a corner on the opposite side of the room and collecting dust. The other was the short redhead winding her way through the furniture in the room like it was an obstacle course. She flung a door open and threw herself inside, pulling the door shut firmly behind her.

Jonathan sighed, looking down at May, who looked between him and the door Clary had disappeared through.

"You forgot your dog," he called, walking over and thumping his fist on the door. The door opened just long enough for the Shepherd to slip through before it was shut again.

Jonathan turned to me with a tiny smile. "She's pissed," he said bluntly, walking to the tan couch and dropping down onto it.

"Why?" I asked curiously, still standing by the entrance to the room. He gestured for me to sit down, and I did.

"Because I invited you here."

I scoffed. "Then why did you invite me?" He frowned a bit as he reached over for the remote on the side table, flipping the TV on.

"She needs socialization. She needs friends. She hasn't talked to any of her old friends since she went blind. So, I figured if she's afraid to talk to her old friends, she might as well make new ones." He looked at me again as he settled on some action movie.

"She hasn't always been blind?" It wasn't what I'd meant to ask, but it was what had come out. Jonathan chewed the inside of his cheek thoughtfully before shaking his head.

"That's her story to tell, not mine. But no, she wasn't born blind."

I sighed. "But why me? Why did you just pull a stranger off the street to befriend your sister? That doesn't seem to be just the tiniest bit reckless and, you know, dangerous?"

He gave me a look out of the corners of his eye, his attention still mainly on the movie.

"Is there a reason I should be concerned to let you near my little sister?" I frowned.

"Not really. I'm not a felon, if that's what you're concerned about." Jonathan grinned a bit.

"Well, as long as you haven't had jail time, I don't see any other necessary criteria for you to pass. I don't have very high standards." He looked over at the door Clary had went through. "Although, she has some sky-high ones."

I raised a brow. "Okay. So, you're telling me you would have just grabbed anybody who happened to be on the street and invited them to befriend your sister?"

I was a bit doubtful. I, personally, didn't have a sister. But Gabriel did, and he was always pissed about some boy that was getting too friendly with her. I couldn't picture him being okay with something like this. Whatever this was. I still wasn't too sure why I was here.

"No," Jonathan finally admitted with a short head shake. His lips quirked up as music began to flow from the room Clary was in. She'd turned on the stereo or something, and we could hear how loud it was. I felt bad for the dog trapped in there. "But you seemed to fit nicely into what I needed for her. You didn't let her get away with her crap. Well, not too much anyway. And, not to mention she accepted your help. She never lets people help her. Usually, she'd bite your head off just for offering. So, why was she different with you?"

I shrugged, feeling a little uncomfortable. Usually, I would have said it was due to my good looks. But, that didn't exactly make sense in this situation. "I don't know. She's your sister, shouldn't you know?"

Jonathan frowned again. "Usually I could tell. But she's been...difficult the last two years. She won't talk to me as much anymore. She's harder to read. What did you say to her?"

I shifted a bit on the couch, thinking back on what had sparked our conversation.

"I was walking by, and saw her. She looked upset so I stopped to see if she was alright. The conversation started out...uh, tense. Then she said that she couldn't figure her 'stupid watch' out. I sat down next to her after she told me what it was supposed to do. I asked to help her and she said no. I tried to take her wrist anyway and she let me, so I looked it over and found the speaker button. Then-"

"I was there for the rest," Jonathan cut me off. "I just don't understand. Why did she let you help her?"

I shrugged awkwardly. He'd asked the same question about ten times now, and I didn't have any more of a clue to an answer now that I had the first time. "Maybe she found me charming."

Jonathan scoffed, shaking his head. "I doubt it. She doesn't fall for charm. Not anymore. She used to be won over by it every time but since...well, she doesn't fall for it anymore." I wondered if he was going to say 'since she went blind' again. But that didn't make sense. Charm was more than just looks. He had to be thinking of something else. I couldn't help but wonder what.

"Maybe you reminded her of someone," he said thoughtfully, before finally shrugging and turning back to the movie.

I was relieved that he was done questioning everything. "Either way, she seems to not hate you at least. That's better than most people get from her." I made a noncommittal noise in response.

This family seemed...odd. A brother, practically begging for a friend for his blind little sister, who seemed to have a serious attitude problem, and missing parents. I still couldn't understand the situation I was in. How had I ended up visiting this chaotic mess of a family?

Throughout the movie, Jonathan continued to talk to me, asking me basic things like what sports teams I liked, what movies and shows I watched, just random things about my interests. I kind of felt like I was on a date-and a poor one at that, but I avoided pointing that out.

After we'd hung out for about an hour, I realized that he was pretty cool when he wasn't acting all funky. He reminded me of myself a little, just with how he acted and how goofy he was most of the time. He was always cracking a joke or smiling, but there still seemed to be some kind of shroud over him, like something was weighing him down. I'd noticed it in both of the siblings now.

After a while of joking around about something or the other, Jonathan suddenly turned the volume up on the TV and turned to me, lowering his voice.

"So, I know you probably think that this is the oddest thing that's ever happened, but you have to understand. Clary used to be this bubbly, friendly person. She had so many friends and she was always so happy. But now, she's just...it's like I lost my sister when she lost her sight. And fuck, I want my sister back. I think, if she had a friend, if she had someone there for her who isn't her brother, she could be that person again. I know you probably have better ways to spend your time than hanging out with some blind chick who needs a serious attitude adjustment, but I think you could help her, and I'm desperate for my sister to get what the help she deserves. You have to believe me, she's a good person. She's just...lost right now. She doesn't know how to help herself and she can't seem to adjust to this life. Please, if you could just be her friend, just until she becomes the person she used to be, I would do anything. I can pay you, if you need money. Just please, help me get my little sister back."

I don't know what made me agree. I didn't have any special reasoning for helping this man with his bratty sister. I'd never been one to help people out like this before. And it's not like I needed the money.

But something about Clary and her brother, the way they both appeared so sad, so empty, had gotten to me. I couldn't help but feel for them.

I'd been like that once, too. After my parents died, just after I turned eight, I was labeled as a lost cause. I was angry and bitter and cruel. I'd been vicious to everyone I encountered.

I would have stayed like that forever if I hadn't found the kind woman in my grandmother, hidden under the years of pain and loss. Through the pain I'd felt of losing my parents, I'd forgotten that she had lost her son as well until, one night, after I'd almost been arrested for petty theft when I was fifteen, she had shouted at me until we both cried, mourning the loss of Stephan Herondale together. All we'd needed was someone to talk to, someone to say that they understood.

And I may not completely understand Clary and Jonathan's circumstances, but I knew loss. And I knew that they'd both lost. Clary had lost her sight and her brother had lost his sister. I knew I couldn't give Clary her sight back, but I could at least make her understand the impact she was having on her brother, and maybe help her feel better and less lonely.

The whole walk back to my home, I couldn't think of anything but the siblings. More specifically, Clary. I still wanted to sleep with her, but now I had a better, more honorable goal in mind as well. I wanted to help her.

I couldn't remember a time when I'd wanted to help someone so much, not even when Sebastian had broken up with his girlfriend-for an unknown but apparently traumatic reason-and I became his sole source of support.

I'd tried to be there for him, of course. But I hadn't managed to do a lot. I didn't even know the girl's name at that point. Hell, I still don't know her name. But, hey, nobody ever said I was a good friend.

Which, of course, begs the question of why exactly Jonathan got the vibe from me that I would be able to help his sister. My first instinct had been to tell him that if he really wanted to hire help for her, he should look into a psychiatrist.

But then I'd seen the way he looked back at Clary's closed door, like he was longing for the girl he used to know. And I remembered how bad the pain of loss was. And I knew, these siblings needed help. They needed someone to talk to, someone to let them know that they weren't alone, that there were others who understood their pain.

I didn't know where their parents were, but they don't seem to be in the picture. All they had was each other, and whatever had happened to Clary was coming between them.

They need each other, and although Jonathan seems to realize that, Clary needs a bit more convincing. She needs someone else to show her that her brother needs her, and she needs him.

I'm determined to be that person.

Besides, I still wanted to sleep with that girl someday.

**Soooo...that happened. You got to know just a little bit more about Clary and Jace. You'll find out more eventually, don't worry. There is a lot more to the characters than there seems so far. Just hang in there through the asshole-iness.**

**I'll give you a one word(name) spoiler for the next chapter: Will. :D**

**-Cassidy**


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's chapter 3 :) It was supposed to be up on Christmas, but I got distracted and then I went to a hockey game last night-I love watching hockey, by the way-and two players from our team got kicked out for fighting the same guy from the other team. It was awesome.**

I walked back to my home slowly. It was well past the time that my grandmother had asked me to stay out until, but I still found myself loitering and meandering to get home.

Maybe it's because I know she'll ask where I've been, like she always does, and I'll tell her the truth, like I always do.

For some reason, the thought of telling my grandma about Clary, and the deal I'd made with her brother, seemed absolutely terrifying to think about.

What would she think of me? Accepting a deal to pretend to be friends with a girl? She'd probably call me a prostitute.

But I'm not in it for the money, so it's not like I'm really doing anything wrong. I do want to help Clary and Jon, and he'd asked me for help, so who was I to refuse?

I wasn't at fault for this. If anyone should take the blame, it should be her brother. He was the one who pulled a random man off the street to make a friend for his little sister.

He was just lucky he hadn't stumbled onto a murderer or rapist and invited him into their home.

I shook my head, pulling my key from my pocket as I approached my house.

I can't believe that someone would be so careless with someone they were supposed to protect.

I pushed the door open, pulling my key out and stepping in.

"Grandma?" I called, shutting the door behind me as I stepped into to entryway.

I heard a response from somewhere further into the house. I kicked my shoes off, lining them up in their place by the door. I walked down the main hall, passing the stairs and formal dining room, pausing in the doorway to the kitchen.

My grandma was standing over the oven, her hand resting on the handle. She turned to look at me, smiling as I stepped into the room.

"Jace," she greeted warmly.

"Hey, Grandma. How was your dinner?"

She turned back to the oven, pulling the door open. "Hmm. It was okay. My clients brought their son. I hadn't expected it, or I would have had you stay to meet him. He seemed like a nice boy."

I nodded absently, barely hearing her as I tried to find a way to tell her about Clary. I didn't know how to without seeming callous.

Grandma closed the door again, turning to me with a frown.

"Is there something on your mind, hon?"

I bit my lip. "Just hear me out, okay?"

Her eyes widened. "What the hell did you do, Jace?" I sighed.

"It's nothing bad. Not really. Like, not jail-worthy," I assured her. She nodded slowly, her eyes still wary. "I met this girl while I was out today-"

Her eyes lit up as a wide smile split her face. I shook my head immediately.

"It's not like that, Grandma." She raised a thin brow. I sighed.

"She's _blind. _But apparently she wasn't always. I met her brother too. He said that she wasn't always blind. And you have to understand to know why any of this makes sense-this girl is...well...a witch." My grandmother gave me a sharp look.

"You know, kid, you haven't always been a ray of sunshine yourself. And you may not have been through what she has. Have a little respect for other people and their struggles."

"I know," I acknowledged, bowing my head slightly. "But just listen for a minute. You'll understand."

"Clary was really rude and bitter, and her brother seemed so exasperated with her. But he invited me to hang out at his house. I accepted, and as soon as we got there, Clary took off to hide in her room. Her brother, Jon, talked to me. He said that she used to be so happy and sociable, but as soon as she went blind, she dropped contact with all of her old friends, and she turned into this bitter bi-" I cut myself off as Grandma gave me a hard look. I smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, Grandma."

She made a humming noise, turning to face me fully, her eyes sorrowful.

"I wish you weren't so quick to judge," she said, shaking her head slightly. "You know, this girl, Clary, it sounds like she was nice girl before the world screwed her over." She sighed, sounding sad, before lowering her eyes to mine again. "Where are you going with this?"

I bit my lip, deciding that I couldn't tell her about the deal. She'd reacted badly enough just to me saying Clary was a witch. I could only imagine her reaction if I told her what I'd agreed to.

"I think I want to get to know her more."

It was true enough, actually. I did want to get to know Clary. I also wanted to know maybe _too _much about her. In less than decent ways.

The way my grandmother's face lit up, you'd have thought I'd just told her that I was getting married.

"That's an amazing idea, Jace. I'm so glad you're going to be spending some time trying to help someone." She stepped towards me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and holding me to her tightly.

I hugged her back, resting my chin on her shoulder. I couldn't help how mixed up I was feeling about all of this.

Part of me was proud of myself-I was going to help someone who couldn't help themselves. I was probably going to save a life since Clary's brother seemed to be an idiot who would have hired a serial killer to be her friend if nobody else agreed. But why did I still feel so guilty? Why did I feel like, instead of helping Clary, I was going to be hurting her?

***#****

The next day, I got a call at ten in the morning. I was sitting at the small table in our kitchen, across from my grandma. We were both eating breakfast when none other than Clary's name flashed on my screen. Jon had programmed both of their numbers into my phone last night.

I stared at it for a moment, until my grandmother raised a brow at me. "Are you going to pick that up?"

I frowned, but reached for it, sliding the green button and putting the cell to my ear.

"Hello?"

An annoyed sigh came from the other line. There was a slight commotion, then Clary's voice filled the speakers.

"Jon is making me do this, so don't flatter yourself, but he's having a couple friends over and said I should invite someone too."

I blinked, a bit shocked that even Clary would be so blunt about something like an invitation to a party.

I was about to say I was busy, since that was what she was clearly expecting me to say, when I remembered Jon and I's deal. He would think I was backing out of it if I said no now. And besides that, I was ecstatic that I would get the chance to piss Clary off again. I could just _see _her face, how her nose would scrunch up and her eyes would narrow, even though it clearly wouldn't help her to see.

So I said what I knew would provoke her once again. "I would love to go keep you company."

There was an angry noise from the other line. "You-"

"I'll be there in ten minutes, okay? See you then."

I felt a smirk slip onto my lips as I ended the call before Clary could respond. I could just imagine her face.

My grandma looked at me with a raised brow, her fork hovering over her scrambled eggs. I smiled, unable to keep in a small chuckle.

"That was Clary. Her brother is having a group of his friends over, and Clary invited me over to keep her company while he hangs out with them." Grandma smiled, although her cool blue eyes still seemed suspicious.

"Okay. Just remember your manners, kid." I nodded, standing up to toss my plate into the sink. I kissed her on the cheek before stepping out of the kitchen and into the hall.

I rolled my eyes over the paintings and photos on the walls, seeing all the old Herondales hung up there. I let my gaze rest on the picture of me as a young child, maybe four. My grandmother said it would be changed out with an older version when I turned twenty five, as all the portraits of the men from the line had been before me. I skipped my eyes over my father and mother, going right to my grandmother. She was forty in the picture, and it'd been taken twelve years ago while she still had her husband on her arm. I'd only ever met my grandfather when I was too young to recall, but he was always smiling in his pictures. It makes me wonder how someone so carefree could ever love someone as serious as Imogen.

I shook my head, looking at all the pictures as I passed them. Quite a few of them were couples, although most of the couples were older. There was one that was just a young boy, who never made it to twenty five for his next photo to be up.

I continued walking, sighing at the portraits. My grandmother was very proud of our lineage and had all of the pictures from our ancestors put up. It had been a family tradition to keep a scrapbook with all of the members. They each had a picture from every year they'd lived and they were all put into one big pocket on the page, the most recent being on the top to display. Of course, the photos eventually reached a year where cameras hadn't existed yet. Then, there were paintings.

My grandma was the one to decide to put all of the pictures up on the wall of the hallway, which was thankfully long. They'd been up since I could remember.

When I reached the door, I grabbed my keys from where they were hung on a peg, my first initial painted over it. I pulled the door shut behind me as I stepped out into the porch, jangling my keys. I shoved them into my pocket, deciding that I would walk to Clary's house. It was nice out, although a bit chilly.

I kept my eyes strictly on the pavement in front of me this time, not wanting to run into another blind chick with a bad attitude.

God knows the one I had already found was going to be hard enough to deal with.

I recognized Clary's house immediately. It wasn't really the house itself that was recognizable, but the red headed girl sitting on the porch steps, glaring out at the street like it had personally wronged her. She didn't have a dog by her side this time, and I frowned. That dog was meant to be my icebreaker today.

I wanted to stop at the front of the path. I wanted to turn around and walk away, no matter how attractive Clary was. I could tell she wasn't in the best of moods, and I didn't feel like dealing with the hostility I knew she'd be throwing me as soon as she realized I was here.

I sighed and took a step forward, reminding myself that the outcome would be worth it. I could only imagine how hot she'd be in bed if she was this fiery in everyday conversation.

I shook my head as I stepped onto the path. Clary's head jerked up a bit, her eyes skimming blankly over where I stood. "Jace?"

"Hey," I greeted, smiling slightly. Her brows stayed furrowed.

"It's you, right?" I blinked in surprise.

"Yeah." She quirked the right side of her lips up lazily.

"Sorry. Thought I recognized your voice, but I wasn't sure. It usually takes me a couple meetings to be able to remember really well."

She stood carefully, shoving a hand into the front pocket of her denim skinny jeans. I allowed my eyes to run over her body, assured that she wouldn't be able to call me out on checking her out.

Her jeans were dark blue and she was wearing a long sleeved black shirt, and a necklace hung around her neck, what looked like an old pocket watch strung on the chain.

"Nice necklace," I said, just before she turned around. She jerked one shoulder up.

"Wouldn't know."

I almost felt guilty, but didn't quite reach the feeling. I rolled my eyes instead. "Don't be a bitch," I said, feeling like a parent snapping at my child. Although, I would hope a parent used less vulgar language.

Clary gave me a dirty look before turning and walking carefully up the porch steps, flipping me off over her shoulder.

I didn't even think before speaking.

"Sign language is for the deaf, not the blind, Clary."

She froze in the doorway, her back gone rigid. I physically winced, realizing how cruel my words had probably come out. But she'd deserved it. If she was going to use her disability to insult other people, I would use it to insult her.

Okay, maybe that wasn't right, but it sure felt it when I spoke.

She stood there for a moment, her fingers clenching the wood of the front door.

"Leave me the fuck alone," I heard her hiss. She practically threw herself into her house, slamming the door shut behind her.

I stared at the closed door for a long moment, taking in the chipping and peeling brown paint. Then I blinked slowly, trying to decide what to do now.

Before I could decide whether to just turn and leave or knock and hope she'd let me in, the door swung open again.

I raised my eyes to see Jonathan standing in the doorway. He smirked at me. "You really pissed her off this time."

I sighed, shrugging. "It's what I'm good at."

Jon just laughed. "It's okay. She'll forget about it in another few minutes."

I raised a brow and he just continued to grin. "Did you hear what I said? It was pretty bad."

Jon nodded quickly, waving a hand in the air dismissively. "It's fine. She's heard worse. Besides, she's used to me picking on her all the time."

I felt my eyes widen fractionally, but followed Jonathan into the house as he turned and headed in. If Jonathan typically makes jokes like the one I'd just cracked, I couldn't blame Clary for being bitter. Who would want everything, including something they were probably sensitive about, to become some big joke?

I closed the door behind me, as Jonathan had requested, and followed him to the living room.

There were several people around the room, seated on the couch and chairs.

Jon swept a hand in my direction as he got their attention. "This is Jace," he said simply. Then he pointed to a boy with dark hair, falling into his eyes slightly. He looked at me with bright blue eyes, twinkling in a way that made me a bit concerned. He seemed like that type to get into all kinds of mischief. I made a mental note to make sure I got him on my good side. "That's Will." Then he pointed to the next boy, sitting beside Will. "That's James, he's not as old as he looks." James rolled his eyes, and I saw what Jonathan meant.

James had silvery white hair and eyes to match. It was a bit disconcerting, actually. But his smile was probably the friendliest I'd ever seen. "Nice to meet you," he said politely, his voice lilting with a subtle English accent. I inclined my head towards him.

"You too."

Jonathan smiled once more, gesturing to the last boy, seated on an armchair a few feet from the couch. "And this is Jordan." Jordan smiled at me, nodding in greeting. His eyes were a hazel color and his hair brown was messy, falling sloppily over his forehead.

"Hey," he said cooly. I nodded back.

"Jace is here to entertain Clary," Jonathan said, grinning.

Two of the boys instantly started to make hooting noises, wishing me luck, while James just frowned. Jonathan gave the two rambunctious ones a stern look.

"Knock it off, both of you." Will and Jordan both quieted, giving Jonathan sheepish looks.

"Sorry, Jon. But you know how she is," Jordan said, frowning.

Jonathan shook his head at them. "And you know why she's like that. Have a little courtesy. Especially you," he said sharply, looking at Jordan.

Jordan looked sheepish for only a moment before shrugging and turning to whatever was on the tv.

Jonathan sighed and turned to me. "She's in her room," he said, pointing to the door. "Just knock before you go in. She might throw something otherwise." His nose wrinkled. "Actually, she might throw something anyway."

I forced a smile. "Great."

Jonathan just grinned before stepping over to the couch and dropping down next to Will.

I sighed and walked to her door, pausing for a moment to collect my thoughts, and plan an apology, before raising my hand to knock.

For a second, there was no response. Then, the door swung open and Clary stood there, looking at me impatiently.

"What do you want, Jon?" I cleared my throat awkwardly.

"It's not Jon," I said, rubbing the back of my neck. Clary's eyes narrowed a bit, and her lip curled up slightly in a sneer.

"What do you want?"

"To apologize. What I said wasn't right. I'm sorry." Her face scrunched up a bit, her brows furrowing. She didn't look quite as angry now, just confused.

"Why are you apologizing?" I blinked, surprised. Clary looked genuinely confused.

"Because I said something hurtful?" I said, phrasing it more as a question.

She shook her head, turning back into her room, leaving the door open for me to walk through. I did, hesitantly.

"People say nasty things to each other all the time. An apology for it is rare." I couldn't help but scoff.

"You would know that. It's not like you ever apologize for the nasty things you say or do. Did you think that maybe I was trying to be the better person by saying I was sorry? Did you maybe think it would be a good time for _you_ to apologize as well?"

Clary didn't turn to face me as she crossed the room, walking over white carpet to reach a window on the opposite wall. I took the moment of silence as an opportunity to take in Clary's room. I had a feeling it had been decorated before she went blind.

The walls were painted a pretty blue, almost teal color, that looked nice with the white carpet. Her bed was pushed up against the wall to my right and it had a comforter with a smooth, elegant black and white pattern on it. She had probably a million pillows stacked up at the head of it. On the opposite wall, there was a wooden dresser with a mirror on top of it. In the sides of it, I could see where Clary had jammed pictures into the frame, probably a long time ago. I wanted to go over and look at the photos, see what her old friends had looked like, but I was too wary about how Clary would react if she heard me moving over there.

I kept looking around as Clary pushed her window open, standing there for a moment before turning around again. I spotted a desk near the dresser, its surface covered in papers and pencils, and then I noticed something that made me feel as though someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over my head. There were drawings taped up all over the walls. They were amazing. A lot of them were of people or animals, or even objects or landscapes and cityscapes.

"Did you draw these?" I asked, my voice hushed. I hoped she would say no. If she hadn't drawn them, if it had been a friend of hers, then I could go on being annoyed by this girl who seemed so determined to hate everyone.

Her brows furrowed. "What?"

I bit my lip. "These sketches on your walls. Did you make them?"

I saw her face immediately go blank. She opened her mouth to respond before closing it again. Then she just nodded and turned back around. I raised a hand, running it roughly through my hair. "They're amazing."

I winced at my own stupidity when her back tensed. She shook her head. "Whatever. It's not like being good at drawing is getting me anywhere now that I can't do it anymore." I could see, when she turned around, no matter how she tried to hide it, that she was upset. She was acting flippantly, but her eyes, the one part of her mask she couldn't seem to control well enough to fool anyone, were dark and hollow. It was like she was dead inside, like there was nothing left for her.

We were both silent for a while, neither one of us having any idea what to say to the other.

Eventually, I sighed and went over to her, resting a hand on her shoulder.

She shrugged me off immediately, turning to scowl at me. "Why the hell are you touching me?"

I threw my hands in the air, exhausted by her mood swings. "It's called comfort, Clary. You seemed like you needed some."

She sneered at me before turning and walking away, expertly avoiding her nightstand to sit on the edge of her bed. "For one, I don't need any comfort. I'm fine. And, for two, what makes you think that I would find _you _comforting?"

I sighed, about to respond when I heard a loud peal of laughter from the living room. The boys were laughing about something, and I saw Clary's head snap towards the sound. I just barely caught a glimpse of longing in her expression before her face went blank again.

"Do you want to go hang out with your brother and his friends? I'm sure you'd be welcome." Why was I even trying anymore?

She just shook her head with a scoff. "Why would I want to hang out with those morons? They're just pompous assholes." I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath.

"Clary. You're probably the biggest 'pompous asshole' I've ever met. So, really, what is it going to hurt to go meet a few more? It's not like they'll be as bad as you anyway."

Clary's eyes narrowed once again. "What makes you think I haven't met them? Will and Jem used to be around all the time. They're my brother's best friends, and they have been since they were little. And Jordan, I _definitely _know Jordan. Jon is only friends with him because of me. So don't act like I'm judging them without knowing them," she snapped. "Because I know them well enough to know that they seemed completely decent until _this_," she pointed a finger harshly at her eyes, "happened to me. Then they were never the same around me, just like everybody else."

She stood up, storming over to her bedroom door and flinging it open. "Now get the fuck out of my room."

I frowned at her. "That's your go-to response every time you get angry or upset, you know," I said, not moving from where I stood.

"Leave," she hissed, her hand shaking where she held the door, her grip tight enough to turn her knuckles white.

I raised a brow, then jumped slightly when something brushed against my leg. I looked down to see May walking past me, straight to Clary's side. Clary reached down and grabbed her collar, rubbing her thumb over the leather as though to comfort herself.

"Jon," she called suddenly, when I still didn't move. I could see the rest of her shaking now. May sat by her master's side, looking up at her worriedly. She barked once, nudging her head against Clary's thigh.

Clary's brother appeared in the doorway, looking between Clary and I worriedly. "Clare?" he asked, putting a hand on her arm.

She scowled in my direction. "Make him leave, Jon," she said, still clutching May's collar.

I looked at Jon helplessly. He sighed. "Clary, just calm down for a minute. What did he do that you're so angry about?"

She took a breath. "He's prying into my business," she said weakly, seeming to realize she didn't have much of an argument.

"Clary," Jonathan said tiredly, rubbing a hand down his face. He looked at me apologetically, and I shrugged.

"I'll head out," I said. Jonathan looked relieved that he hadn't had to ask. "I'll see you later," I said as a goodbye.

I passed Clary and her brother on the way out, and didn't say anything to his friends on the way out. What Clary had said made me wary of them. I tried to keep in mind that she could be completely wrong, or even lying, but there was still the chance that she was right about them.

Once again, I headed for home with more questions about the blind girl than I'd started with.

The thing that stuck with me the most was the sketches on her walls. Clearly, Clary had been a good artist, great even, before she lost her vision. It was just one more thing to add to the list of stuff she'd lost along with her eyes, right behind her independence.

For the first time, I could see a better end result than getting to sleep with Clary. I _really _ wanted to help her now. I had seen her sadness when she talked about drawing. I had seen her longing when she realized that she was alone while other people were having fun.

Seeing her emotions, even ones that were weak like that, made her seem more like a real person. She seemed less apathetic, less unfeeling and cold. She seemed less bitter, and more lonely, and just plain _sad_.

I wanted to see the whole _her_. I wanted to see the entirety of the real person hidden behind the anger and resentment. I wanted to see who she really was, and damnit, I would do that, even if it took me my whole life.

**So, this is just a reminder to those of you that are reading my other story, Twisted-It's not finished yet. I still have some plot left to write out, so keep an eye out for that. I should be updating it pretty soon since I'm on break right now.**

**-Cassidy ❤️**


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